


Raise Our Cups To The Stars

by leiascully



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Anniversary, Champagne, F/M, Post-Coital Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:37:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and River celebrate their thousandth anniversary with some very special champagne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raise Our Cups To The Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Paper, China, Pearls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/825162) by [leiascully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully). 



> Timeline: a missing scene from another story, references to S7  
> A/N: Coffeesuperhero requested a story inspired by Daft Punk's new song "Get Lucky". I bet she wasn't expecting this. They're still in the outfits from [this fanart](http://littleulvar.deviantart.com/art/the-timelords-352949518), although River left off the gun.  
> Disclaimer: _Doctor Who_ and all related characters are the property of Russell T. Davies, Stephen Moffat, and BBC. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

"You don't have to have any if you don't like it," River said, that amused little smile playing around her lips. They were sitting in the restaurant under the great glass dome that let in the light of three moons. Two champagne flutes sat on a silver tray in the middle of their table. "I'll drink yours, if it comes to that. It'd be a shame to waste it."

"I want to!" the Doctor insisted. He reached for his glass. "It isn't grapes, anyway."

"Well," River said, "after a fashion. Moon grapes, they call them, but as far as I understand it, they're more like storage than fruit. When they press them, it's only the light that collects."

"Champagne distilled from moonlight," the Doctor said, gazing at the enormous primary moon through the shimmering bubbly liquid in his glass. The champagne glowed; through it, the moon was doubly bright. "Now there's a beverage worthy of a thousandth anniversary."

"They say it's a fairly potent aphrodisiac," River warned, raising her own flute to examine the contents.

The Doctor blushed furiously. "We'll just deal with that as it comes, shall we?"

River smirked. 

"Oh, yes, yes, it's all terribly funny," the Doctor said. "You know, I wasn't exactly a virgin when we met. I'm certainly not now."

"And yet you're positively crimson," River said. 

"This planet's warm," the Doctor said defensively, tugging at his bowtie with his free hand. "And the cummerbund isn't helping."

"You didn't have to wear it," she told him. "It doesn't have to be our anniversary every night."

"It absolutely does," he told her in a low voice. "I'm not finished celebrating you."

"Well," she said in a voice like a promise, "in that case, chin chin."

They clinked their glasses together and gazed into each other's eyes as they lifted the flutes to their lips. The Doctor sipped. The champagne was incredible, like nothing he'd ever tasted; it was warm and cool at once, the bubbles pearls of light on his tongue, the flavor crisp and clean and sweet. He took another sip and another, letting it wash through his mouth. Already his blood felt fizzy.

"Slowly, sweetie," River said, laughing. "Not like the gums, then?"

"Not at all like the gums," he said. "Which one's supposed to be champagne, anyway?"

"I haven't the faintest," she told him. 

"Nobody does," he grumbled, taking another sip of champagne and leaning back in his chair. "In the whole of human history, I've never found anyone who knew which gums were supposed to be which flavors, or even if they were supposed to taste like wine in the first place."

"One of life's little mysteries," she said, smiling at him. She reached down to adjust the skirt of her dress. Starlight from the galaxy cloth gleamed golden on her collarbones and the moon silvered her hair and caught in her eyelashes. He couldn't stop gazing at her. He wanted to soak her in. It wasn't just the champagne that made him think she was the loveliest thing in the universe. He'd been drunk on River far more often than he'd had champagne; she was more potent than any intoxicant. His wife - and the thought still astounded him, that she'd bound her life to his after everything that had happened. That she'd've torn the universe to pieces for love of him. That he'd rewrite all of history to save her if he could.

"Tipsy already, sweetie?" she asked with a deliciously wicked grin.

"Not even close," he told her. "Just rather ridiculously in love, I'm afraid."

Her grin turned heart-meltingly sweet. "I'd have to say the feeling's mutual."

"To us," he said. "River and the Doctor, careening through the universe together."

"You watch us run," she said, clinking her glass against his again, and for a moment his hearts stopped. He gulped at his champagne, letting it sparkle through him. River savored hers, her pleasure in the stuff evident on her face, and he relaxed again, watching her. 

"We should come back sometime," she said. "For our hundredth anniversary, maybe."

"I admit I overshot a bit with the thousandth," he said. "I'd celebrate each and every one of them if I could drag you away from your work more often."

"And then I'd never get anything accomplished," she said. "Honestly, sweetie, it's enough of a chore finding all the places your name is writ large across history. I hardly have time to make my own mark as it is."

"Oh, my River," he said fondly. "I don't think that will ever be a problem for you. You might as well have written your name over the universe in ten-mile-high letters made of flames."

She raised an eyebrow. "And that isn't a spoiler?"

"Only if it's something you weren't already planning to do," he teased her. She gave a little shrug and smiled into her champagne.

By the time he'd drained the glass, he did feel a bit light-headed. He waltzed River across the floor as she laughed and held up her heavy skirt. The other people in the restaurant just smiled at them, or gestured in whatever their species recognized as amusement. The champagne was improving everyone's mood, it seemed. He twirled River as they stepped up the path to the TARDIS and light danced around their feet.

"Quite the romantic, aren't you?" she asked, beaming. 

"You bring it out in me," he said, slipping an arm around her waist. He leaned against the TARDIS and the door opened; he pulled River inside and bent his head to kiss her. She settled against him with a pleased little noise, her arms looping around his neck. He cupped her face with his hands. More than anything, he wanted to freeze time in this moment of perfect bliss. He drew back to look into her eyes and blinked in surprise. 

"You're glowing," he said in wonder.

"Tends to happen when I'm around you," River teased. "A side effect of happiness, I suppose."

"Yes, but you're literally glowing," he said. "It isn't only the dress. Main lights off." The control room dimmed abruptly, the only light coming coming from the illuminated words of Gallifreyan etched around the time rotor. Except that it wasn't the only light, because River was gleaming in the dark, her skin a soft silver. He reached out to touch her and found that his own hands gave off the same glow.

"Blame it on the moonlight," she said with a laugh. "I wonder if it works all over." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Not your best ploy, Doctor Song," he said, brushing a few curls away from her face. "Rather transparent, in fact."

"Intended to be," she told him, catching his hand in hers. Her other hand curled around his wrist. "Otherwise, I'd never get through to you." Finger by finger, she pulled off his glove as he watched her, transfixed. When she'd let the first glove fall to the floor, she reached for his other hand and drew little designs in his palm with her fingernail before easing off the second glove. The Doctor was nearly breathless as River kissed his knuckles and turned her back to him. 

"Now, about that pressure zip."

He nuzzled at the nape of her neck and drew his thumb slowly down her spine. The fabric of the dress parted at his touch, spilling light over her skin. "It's keyed to you as well, you know."

"I know," she said, her voice rich and warm. "But I'd hardly deprive you of the pleasure of putting me in a state of undress."

"And a pleasure it is," he said, kissing the bared skin of her back. She hummed. 

"I look forward to returning the favor," she told him. "Have I told you how much I enjoy that tuxedo? The anticipation just builds forever, taking off all those pieces."

"I'll let you start now," he murmured. 

She pivoted in his arms, grinning, and did an elaborate little wriggle. The dress slid off her shoulders and fell to the floor with a soft rustle. She splayed her fingers carefully over the Doctor's chest and pushed him back a pace so that she could step out of the dress. River stood in front of him, clothed in exceptional confidence, lacy black lingerie, suspenders, stockings, and heels. The suspender belt was longer than he'd thought it would be - it hugged her curves from hip to waist. 

"You're right, you know," she said. "It's quite warm." 

"Ah," he said, and swallowed hard. "Yes." It was nearly a struggle to breathe when he looked at her. "But now you're dressed for the occasion." 

"Yes, I am," she said, "but it looks like you need a little help, sweetie." She stepped close and tugged carefully at his bowtie until it slipped from his collar. Rather deliberately, she dropped it on the floor. The Doctor stood very still. River eased her hands under the lapels of his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. The heavy galaxy cloth slithered down his back. He shivered, desire sparking through his body like the bubbles of the champagne. 

"You're really extraordinarily, ah, helpful," the Doctor said in a voice that was slightly rougher than he'd intended. He cleared his throat. 

"Oh, exceptionally," River agreed, making short work of the buttons of his waistcoat. His stomach tightened as her fingers brushed against his shirt. She smiled, gazing into his eyes, and smoothed her hands from his hipbones up to his shoulders, subjecting the waistcoat to the same fate as the jacket. The Doctor sighed with longing and River smiled and kissed him as her fingers undid the buttons of his shirt. He leaned into her mouth, his tongue sliding against hers, speaking a language whose only word was _please_. 

River's hands clutched the rumpled fabric of his shirt. She tugged sharply until the tails came loose from his trousers. The Doctor deepened their kiss, running his hands over her back. Her breath was hot on his cheek and her mouth was sweet as champagne. He wanted to melt into her mouth, into the shimmering gleam of her body. His body yearned toward hers and he swayed closer, fitting his hips against hers. River pulled urgently at his clothes, shoving back his shirt and undoing his belt. She broke the kiss to fiddle with his cufflinks. He stroked her face, marveling at the silver glow from their skin.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

She smiled at him. "I'm still hoping for the full effect."

He stumbled a little as his trousers collapsed around his ankles. "It's a pity my shoes aren't as nice as yours."

"You could try them," she offered. "I'm certain the TARDIS would provide if you really wanted a pair. And those legs in stockings, ooh." She bit her lip playfully. "It might be all too much for me to take."

"Hmph," the Doctor said, wrestling his way out of his trousers. He leaned against a railing to unlace his shoes and pull off his socks. River watched him, stretching luxuriously. He nearly fell over, watching the curve of her hip shift as she moved. She caught him as he stumbled, stepping in close so that his body slid against hers. Her arms were strong and smooth and warm around him.

"Careful, Time Lord," she warned playfully. "My plans won't go half so well if we have to move them to the infirmary."

He straightened up with care, making sure that their bodies stayed in contact. "I should think that by now you'd have a backup infirmary plan," he teased.

"Oh, I do," she promised, drawing one finger down his chest. "But it isn't as fun."

"Then we'll try to avoid putting it into play," he said in a low voice. "And River - now we're even." 

"Not quite," she said with the same huskiness. "You're still wearing your shirt."

He gripped the open edges of his shirtfront. "I'll show you mine."

She reached back and unhooked her bra, holding the ends. "I love a compromise. At least the sort where I reap the benefits."

"You're not the only one who comes out ahead on this one," he reminded her.

She shrugged, nearly unsettling the bra from her breasts. "In this case, I'm all right with it."

"Well then, Doctor Song," he said. "Time to reveal your hand." He shed his shirt and she let her bra fall from her shoulders. She shook her hair out; glints sparkled in her curls as they tumbled. Her skin still glowed cool silver, her nipples a little darker. The Doctor gazed down the panorama of her body. She was always beautiful, his River, but this look was positively stunning.

"You're fading a bit," River said. She put her hand in the middle of his chest, and she definitely gleamed brighter than he did.

"That Gallifreyan metabolism, I'm afraid," he said. "It was fun while it lasted."

"And the other effects?" she teased.

"Ah, River, River," he said softly, "I never needed champagne of any sort to want you."

"That's what I like to hear," she breathed, and then she was kissing him and he was kissing her and it was more than he'd ever dreamed of, that kiss. Any other thought he might have had dissolved in the sweet heat of her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close until their bodies were perfectly aligned. She fit so well against him, his River. Bespoke to be sure, a better partner than he could have imagined. Her mouth was bliss; her arms were home; the solid, muscled form of her in his embrace was his anchor. He moaned a little, pressing even harder against him, and her arms tightened around him. He was desperate for her, hungry for her; his tongue challenged hers and she responded in kind. He could feel the pattern of the lace of her knickers practically rasping against the fabric that covered the swell of his erection. He moaned, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of her. 

"Now I'm the one with too much on," she gasped, easing away from him. He felt a pang at the loss of contact, but loosened his hold. She reached back, but he took her hands. 

"May I?" he asked.

"You absolutely may," she said. He settled her hips against his and bent to kiss her neck and shoulder. She sighed happily, her hands skidding over his back. He nuzzled at her collarbone and carefully unhooked the first hook. It made a little popping sound as it slipped from its eye. River took a deep breath. She turned her mouth to find his as his fingers reached for the second hook. Each time he pulled the fabric tight to work a hook out, she kissed him a little more fiercely. The light from her skin was cool, but her touch was scorching.

By the time he reached the bottom, she was cupping his face with trembling hands, her lips tugging at his. He kissed her back with equal passion, desperate for as much of her as he could get. She pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking gently, and he moaned. She moaned in response and nipped at his lip. He undid the very last hook and slid down her body, kissing a path between her breasts and down her belly, easing her stockings off her long, lovely legs. She touched his head for balance as she stepped out of her heels. He pushed them aside and draped the stockings over them, still hooked to her suspender belt.

"They didn't have to come off," she murmured. "We could have worked around them."

"I want all of you," he told her, gazing up her body. "Every single inch, River." She shivered. He thumbed her hips and slid his hands down her legs, taking her knickers along with them. The light from her thighs glowed through the lace. He kissed the edges of the darker triangle between her thighs. She moaned and ran her fingers through his hair. 

"That's not quite enough inches for me, Doctor," she said in a husky voice, and he rose to his feet. She divested him of his underwear with quick, efficient movements, and then they were skin to blissful skin. He wrapped his arms around her and she tucked her chin against his shoulder; they swayed in the dim of the control room, River still the brightest thing. On the floor, her dress and his tailcoat cast golden shadows. 

They stayed like that for a few moments, clasped in a breathless embrace, shifting gently to music that only they could hear. Then River pulled away slightly and caught his hand between hers. She kissed his palm, folding his fingers over the mark, and led him down the corridor to one of the wardrobes. 

"It would be a night for sleeping outside," she said, "but I think we'll have to make do with the observatory." She pulled out a few duvets and bundled them into the Doctor's arms, then took a few more herself, stuffing a pillow under her arm. The Doctor reached up and pulled down a satiny coverlet he hadn't seen before - TARDIS blue, it was, and sleek and slippery as he hefted his load of blankets. He followed River's glowing bare back. The TARDIS had dimmed the main lights everywhere, it seemed, but she shimmered. She'd often been the light that guided his path in a metaphorical sense; it was only fitting that it had become literal now. He glanced at his own hand as he got a better hold on the blankets. The merest trace of silver light remained in his own skin, just enough that he could see the outline of his fingers.

River turned into the observatory and set her blankets on a bench. The Doctor followed suit and helped her shake the duvets out over the floor, stacking them to make a pallet of sorts. The moonslight shone in through the windows, refracted in soft angles until everything was gleaming. The Doctor carefully spread the blue coverlet over the top of their makeshift mattress and offered River a hand as she eased herself down. 

"Perfect," she said as he stretched out beside her. 

He touched her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Absolutely perfect," he agreed. She leaned in and kissed him, her lips parting against his. He kissed her back, his hand sliding from her face to her neck and down her back, pulling her closer. She rolled slightly onto her back, pulling him with her. He braced himself on one elbow, sliding that forearm under her shoulder so that he could still touch her face, and the other hand cupped her breasts and caressed her body in long strokes. Her hands roamed over his chest and shoulders and down his back. After a few minutes, her fingers curled around his wrist, and she guided his hand between her thighs. He stroked her folds, parting them gently with his thumb, and groaned. She was slick against his fingers; her hips rose at his touch. 

"Yes," she said, and he eased into her, giving her time to adjust. She was a revelation every time, the way her body held him, welcomed him. She let out a breath and smiled at him and he smiled back and kissed her. He moved in her slowly, gently, not in a hurry. The moons bathed them in light and River glowed against the dark blue satin of their pallet. She touched his back in quiet urgency. His hand was still wedged between their bodies and he stroked the place that made her hips shake against his.

He wanted it to last forever: the quiet sounds of their breath, the slow sweet movements of their bodies in perfect rhythm, the peace that surrounded them. He kissed her lazily, as if they had all the time in the universe. His tongue slid easily against hers, a kiss for a summer's night, all heat and honey. It was a night to remember for all time. It was a night that would keep him warm at the end of all things. River and the Doctor in love, making love, drawing love down from the universe to light their hearts. 

River's body trembled under his and he moved just a little faster, matching her urgency. He wanted to send her soaring. She moaned, sending a thrill through him, but he kept the same rhythm. Her hands tightened on his back. Her moans got a little faster, a little closer together; he timed himself to the pace of her sounds, trembling along with her. Oh, he was lost in her. He'd do anything for her. He murmured to her as he kissed her, sweet nothings that even he could hardly hear. She wrapped her arms around him and gasped. He could feel long slow waves rock through her body. He buried his face in her neck, breathing hard, until the waves slowed.

River relaxed a little under him, settling back into the pallet. Her eyes shone up at him. He carefully pulled out the hand that had been between their bodies and braced himself more firmly. He was still moving slowly in her, wanting it to last. River watched him. Her fingers traced his shoulders and the planes of his chest. She bit her lip at the occasional crest of pleasure, closing her eyes for only a moment before she met his gaze again. He was losing himself in her, gone beyond the point of no return. His hips jerked and she steadied him, watching him, there with him through every moment. 

"I bloody love you," he said helplessly. It wasn't the right words - there would never be the right words that said all the things he felt for her - but it was a start.

"I know the feeling," she told him, pulling him down for a kiss as he collapsed against her. 

They lay wrapped in each other's arms, their breathing gradually slowing. The Doctor pulled the edge of the satin coverlet over them and it was just right. 

"A perfect anniversary," River said at last, and he could hear the smile in her voice even though his eyes were still closed. The glow of her skin was barely visible through his eyelids. 

"It isn't over yet," he said, kissing her forehead. "River Song and the Doctor, that's a story that never ends."

"You and me," she agreed. "Long past happily ever after. We'll be stiff in the morning if we fall asleep here, sweetie. Or at least I will - I know you don't sleep much."

"Do you want to move?" he asked.

"No," she said, cuddling against him. 

"Then it'll just be a way to remember this," he said.

"As if we could forget," she teased, her voice soft and sleepy.

"No," he said, drowsy, tucking a pillow under her head. "We'll never forget."

The moonslight washed them in silver, so closely entwined that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. The TARDIS' engines hummed soothingly. Peace settled over them. The planet continued its slow roll toward the sun and River slept against the Doctor's shoulder, a precious hour carved out of history just for the two of them.


End file.
